June pulled me out of the drawer I was sleeping in and gave me a toy soldier.  I formed a battalion and we marched up the hill followed by a herd of white rabbits; I greeted the milkmaid with a sign and we sat in the trenches waiting for dinner.  Dinner arrived as a heavy bombardment and I took to the air as a great bird - I carried my passenger to her palace where we could listen to voices on the radio incorporated into her magic wand.  We descended the hill disguised as black grouse.

The bedroom was a vanilla ice-cream from which I emerged as a small vehicle trundling along a cereal box on caterpillar tracks - June followed driving a coal lorry.  I stared as a big black hand reached down and pulled me out of my tea bag igloo and deposited me in the middle of a musk ox parliament - I subsequently spoke to the speaker in Swahili.  My close friend Sweeney Todd turned on the television and I saw myself as a small tree in a sacred grove; June danced round me in ever decreasing circles.

I split in two just after breakfast and decided to take myself out for a walk.  Myself and I walked as far as we could and reached a rock face which was curiously wearing stilettos and fishnet stockings - I climbed to the top dressed like King Kong.  On the summit June stepped out of a hot air balloon carrying a box; she found the controls tucked in the lining of my great coat and turned it on.  We listened to a snowman talking to his snow lady, she as a Vanir goddess and me as a shop steward for the Aesir.

I signed on the dole while having breakfast with a full size cardboard cut-out of the Queen Mother.  After putting a parting in the covering of ice on the drive (the neighbours insist it is a wig) I walked to town carrying a sack of plastic reindeer.  I greeted the spectral football team but only had time to have one shot at goal - I came home with a dressing table tucked inside my bobble hat singing a Transylvanian lament in response to the barely audible call of an ice man trapped in a sauna.

June and I started the day trapped in a cruet set; I was pepper and coughed wildly - so wildly that I was courted by a love sick jumping bean (we met but decided not to take the relationship any further).  I coughed all my way to the shops, sat in a freezer, and then coughed all my way home again.  June travelled home astride an Indian Elephant, busy knitting a cosy for a frozen tea pot.  The old man up the road wobbled like a child's toy while I pulled up paving slabs and the pet budgie ran for parliament.

I am still coughing uncontrollably; the main battle tank I slept in shook - although this was partly reverberating footsteps in the secret garden just ahead of the Korean War landing strip.  I swept the snow off the voice box of an automatic town cryer I keep in the back garden (tied to the automatic Saxon treasure horde planter) and wrote a love letter using footprints in snow.  The omniscient troll had reached the secret garden before I pulled myself up by my bootstraps in the Christian catacombs of my studio.

I spoke to a post box that knocked the door very early in the morning; I stuffed waste paper into its huge mouth, followed by the remnants of last night's meal, while it showed me a leg with a gold bow tied round it.  I took a break to communicate with a dragon passing overhead, flames issuing from my mouth touching those falling from his - meanwhile June went down the Niagara Falls in a barrel - I led an expedition to find her image on an North American Indian totem pole.

I woke in the guise of a frog asleep at the bottom of a pond; My alter ego thawed a small hole forming a telescope into another universe: here all the frogs kiss beautiful princesses and turn them into tadpoles.  It was bitterly cold outside as I hung from the washing line wearing a wet suit.  June stayed indoors paddling in a casserole dish - I nibbled a piece of cheese like a small mouse listening to the collective heartbeat of the world.  I imagined turning into life insurance policy free gift if the heartbeat stopped. 

I took a short space flight soon after waking from my enhanced sewing machine sleep; June and I landed on one of the larger moon of Saturn just as the old man was combing out a group of lemurs from his long beard (we concluded that the lemurs were a species new to science).  A second version of June was busy knitting when we returned, I called her Juno and turned on the television using a goldfish.  Unfortunately all the water on the screen had turned to ice - I watched through Ena Sharples' hair net.

I went up the road in the pocket of The White Queen, jumping out by parachute and running through the snow like water.  The dog was already wearing her high heels so we walked to a wardrobe landscape and back (me with a box of tricks which called itself Simon).  I stood in my studio like a ballet dancer while a mechanical spider did press ups on the landing.  I climbed the ladder after dinner, found a woman filling black sacks with memories and helped her take them to the skip.

I had to get up early to walk to town as a Victorian chimney sweep; on emerging through a ornate chimney pot I was entered into a human factory to be processed - I had reached about half way when I was suddenly spat out like Jonah.  As Jonah I returned home carried aloft by several partially intoxicated mermen (They didn't stay as the ghost of the Titanic was coming back to its berth at Southampton Docks carrying the forgotten dreams of a thousand people).   I zipped my own dreams into my back pocket

I went out very early, undercover of darkness, in search of celestial light sources.  I was plugged into the mains just as a family of pavement sloths ambled down the road in search of food.  After a short diversion chasing cheese that had slid off the toast (the toast wasn't talking to me after a misunderstanding) I discussed the concept of cognisant statues with a bronze version of The Thinker before merging into one of the larger leafed forms of the common ivy.  I returned home pursued by fieldfares.

I was hoping to have a serene "owl and a pussycat went to sea" day as I slowly spun round in a saucer of milk.  However, everything changed as a horde of black cats crashed the party and I had to escape across a frozen lake followed by hot water.  I finally found solace in the magician's house pretending to be part of the furniture.  It was while I masqueraded as a mahogany coffee table (complete with teacup stain) that I had a vision of a white mouse sat in the cockpit of an orbiting spaceship

I stood on an overturned pram waiting for the snow clouds to retreat to their vampire lair - the noises in the house were translated by a plastic doll whose eyes moved when she was lifted up.  June and I went out before all baby smiles grew dark, we wrested the little white pills from the artichoke man (his red onion eyes glinting like a needle in a compost heap) and retraced our steps before the soup cook took back her croutons.  On our return the cat burglar wanted to go out but I wouldn't let him

I walked June to the attenuated citadel - some people call it the ogre's kneecap - quite early in the morning (I remember the Iceman was dancing with the Torch).  I had to visit the nurse, which I did diligently carrying my friend the myopic amoeba and his spare pair of glasses.  The Lady of the Lake took my specimen as if it was a glass of wine - in the mirror on the wall I was seen handing over a small incendiary device.  I exploded back to my home on stilts and settled into my studio like a layer of dust.

I woke suddenly in the still dark room; a girl trapped in a Victorian bathing machine was calling, I christened myself the King Seagull and returned her call.  We spoke on the mantlepiece either side of a wolf clock.  I came back from the wolf woods as a cellophane fish, June read the message on my upturned belly and we decided to go out - I saw a crack in the bathroom ceiling.  After I had gone to bed a primitive armoured fish entered the room went through my bedside drawer and found a torch.

Compelled by a voice issuing from a tin box that used to hold plain chocolate biscuits - or milk chocolate, the wise old owl from folklore couldn't decide - I spent the morning pinning a variety of plastic mouths on the tall posts that ran, in a meandering way, up the garden.  These posts marked the point where the tide came in and the three magi (plus sundry shepherds, none close relatives) disembarked from their wooden boats bearing gifts.  I spent all day in the garden only coming in when the tide went out again.

After hearing the siren I walked about the house wearing a goldfish bowl as a hat; June wore a cap made from the mummified remains of Leon Trotsky (accessorised with an ice pick).  A lady finally arrived after dinner with a collection of random names in her briefcase.  We matched initials and mused over the contents of a dead mammoth's stomach. After a short while I followed her out to find a rock to write a message on. When I returned June was entertaining the only red squirrels to be found in the area.

I woke up as the cat and the cat woke up as me; I reflected on metaphysical ideas as I lapped up my milk.  June was a spaniel/collie dog cross and ran into the garden for a wee grasping a shopping list.  We went out shopping after I had lined up my paintbrushes for an inspection (I was colonel in chief).  While pacing the supermarket aisles I felt myself continually shifting into other dimensions - in one of these I was a voodoo doll pursued by a lovesick porcupine; we finally met in the sea urchin discotheque.

I had to walk June along a steel girder hundreds of feet above a New York pavement.  It was pouring with rain and she floated down below a flower patterned umbrella.  I hitched a lift on a passing howitzer shell heading for the Somme in 1915 causing the climbing plant attached to my legs to burst forth into bloom, each flower head having been franked by the Royal Mail.  The dairy maid's fingers pushed through the turf like standing stones as the Friesian cow balloon touched down and the frog princes got off.

Out early in a very foggy morning to stand like the Flying Dutchman on the bow of his ship straining my fourteen eyes to see a glimmer of land.  I wiped the bathroom mirror and saw a thin band of yellow sand.  The old man and I looked at the young girls standing in front of their big gun before I came home to become an island in lukewarm bath water.  I walked into the White Hart dressed like Senta, saw too many people and walked out again.  June was going out as I was coming in and we exchanged a chip.

I spent the day as a high priest of an obscure Celtic religion (standing among ancient New Zealand tree ferns to memorise my lines).  After exposing my self as a sham I was confined to my studio - a never ending ladder ascended through floor and ceiling, I temporarily got on to paint the pineal gland in a new portrait of Handel while a trusted glove puppet designed a new ocean liner and my other hand grasped the trapeze.  Upside down, I waited all day for the scantily glad girl to swing my way. 

June got out of bed early, waking me to remove layers of carboniferous flora from the artillery pieces in the wardrobe and switch on the landing lights for the giant dragonflies returning from action in the Falklands War.  I walked her to work, still counting the Neolithic stone implements haphazardly cast aside, and then returned home with memories of Giselle performed in a paper handkerchief box.  I blew my nose when I got in and absent mindedly went through my pockets for frozen eyeballs.

I went to back to bed in the slit trench after June had surprised me by climbing her strings and attacking the puppeteer.  I rose as a water spout later than planned, flooding the kitchen before the dragons had tidied up their hoard.  Wearing the crown of a Saxon king I hoovered the lounge; simultaneously tucking the gelatinous mass of several jellyfish into my Wellington boots and tidying up the rampant hairdos of a number of friendly gorgons.  June returned home just as I parachuted into a re-enactment of Arnhem.

I didn't sleep very well; I was held tightly by a giant gorilla after it destroyed all the tiny biplanes, climbed down the Empire State building and retired to Texas - I tiled the kitchen wall behind the cooker while it did so.  After emerging from the icy cold water as Triton I blew my conch shell for eleven thousand transvestites who had set off on their annual pilgrimage and then settled down in front of the fire to perform miracles.  The hibernating bear ensconced in the outside lavatory was heard snoring.

After a breakfast of multicoloured cornflakes I flew upstairs as a classical Persian demigod, shaking the hand that had mysteriously pushed itself out of the wall as I did so.  My studio had been recently colonnaded and I had purchased bacchanalian wine stains to authenticate the floor.  So many wise old owls had congregated on the windowsill that they obscured the light.  I painted in the dark for a while before having to put the light on to find my cup of tea, I didn't notice the capybara swimming in it.

June I and went shopping, me dressed as Acteon and her as one of his dogs.  We met Diana in town and helped her find her glasses.  I contemplated making furniture from fig tree leaves while the Olympians patented extra hot jalapeno pepper ice cream. As the Director of the Colditz prisoner of war film making society I surreptitiously filmed their stunt doubles at their ablutions.  At the end of the commercial break I climbed into the cockpit of my new jet fighter and flew back to base for the night.

I left the house early via the dome of a ballistic missile silo, travelling at super cheetah speed I found the king of the fairy folk buttering the face of a hot cross bun princess; we spoke at length using short sentences.  I came back as an ostrich jockey practising for the avian Derby.  My studio had become a hot dog roll so I covered myself with mustard and pushed inside, June was sat in a bird cage hanging from the ceiling, we exchanged strange animal calls before I laid a lawn on my chest.

I swam twenty laps in my porridge bowl before I felt fully awake; the strange people who spend their entire existence scrambling within wall cavities had been especially busy last night.  June dressed as Nell Gwyn stood outside talking to a man with a crane under his hat, he used this to pull his trousers up after participating in the ancient Minoan ritual of bull jumping.  I had shrunk in the night so had to get a step ladder to reach the breakfast table; I counted eleven eyeballs, all trying to spy on each other.

I woke as an ex-lover of a Barbie doll, all covered in lipstick, and rushed upstairs to paint a cross dressing ogre's eyelashes; which obviously necessitated standing on an exceedingly tall pole (with a catalogue of cloud formations dangling from my belt).  This took most of the day as he kept fluttering his eyelids when particularly vivacious articulated lorries glanced in the window.  I finally packed in when a number of sheep forced themselves past the stage door attendant and started to count themselves.

 I was alone in a white room for what seemed a very long time - I saw a wedding procession of swans fly by overhead, well above where my best friend King Kong could reach - and then I found the white door.  I stumbled out into an arid desert from our luxuriant living room (the front page of a daily newspaper proclaimed a parrot as king).  In a daydream I followed a row of marching soldiers, my head a jigsaw puzzle - I swallowed my medal as soon as the flak was heard (there was one jigsaw piece missing).

I started the day riding in an imaginary Rolls Royce, a giant bowl of porridge (with an unknown number of Olympic standard swimmers floating in it) on my lap - I later bought a lead and took the porridge out for a walk.  When I got out of my four seater bubble car I saw several retired security guards nonchalantly leaning on door posts like empty bottles the milkman had forgotten to collect - I put a small plastic frog in each, rolled up my sleeves and pulled on a piece of string sticking out of the ground.

I spent another day in the white room, a bowl of water (instead of a stuffed squirrel) on my head. While June went through the drawers trying to find a note I sang the entire melody from behind a waterfall.  I was rather perturbed when a multitude of chicken feathers started to grow, like stalactites, from the roof of my mouth;  I blew on an old globe and found an egg with the map of America painted on it (we later had an omelette made from southern California).  It had got dark before I could fly away.

Back to some kind of normality, June wearing a frock last worn during the Siege of Calais and me holding dead twigs with a mechanical caddis fly trapped inside.  I climbed some tied together sheets from the black washing machine to the white tumble dryer; the latter was slowly eating the now rusty carcass of an early Twentieth Century tractor.  After the meteor people had flown, over June got the sheep in while I rescued the shepherd.  The giant head on the hill top now had an empty space in its mouth.

I was up very early, although several other versions of myself remained in bed, and boarded a big red bus pretending to be a matador - I later burnt all my clothes and returned home disguised as a fox.  While away from the house I posed for some ancient photographs to supplement the Valhalla archive.  I then returned to clean my collection of gob stopper machines and worked like a patented knitting machine for several hours.  June wanted to see a skeleton dressed in pantyhose so I walked her to town.

I started the day mono cycling round a multi-vaulted dungeon where the less bright owls congregate to watch soap operas and whinge like newspaper columnists.  I crumpled up the papers and escaped through an air vent to paint passing clouds a dirty shade of pink.  I then worked out by holding onto a statuesque lady's nose rings before metamorphosing into a hungry stick insect and devouring part of the, recently decorated, bedroom wall. June was in bed with a caterpillar at the time.

I got up feeling more tired than when I went to bed.  I said this to a number of blind, deaf and dumb soldiers of an unknown South American dictator while throwing myself off a cliff holding a black and white photograph of Stevie Smith.  I found myself in the sea with a putty knife in one hand and a bag of rabbit food in the other - I made the appropriate gestures and a well known lady poet wrote a poem about me - this was recited some time after while I sat on a supermarket shelf pretending to be a bag of curly kale.

I started the day trapped in a Jane Austen novel, I was just going to greet the heroine in pigeon French when the stuffed deer head started to recite a pornographic poem.  After a hurried breakfast - in the middle of which I sadly buried a number of dead frogs - I pulled on a coloured rope and the sack opened; several old photographs climbed out (one of which was holding a string of onions).  June and I took refuge in the recently tiled bathroom as the Red Indians circled outside.  I waved to the neighbours.

I heard the news filtered through a silk stocking which I had found pulled over a rusting B52 in the next door garden.  Just as the weather was announced (with applause) I plastered my toast with cement and became a toy god hovering over the toy trenches and filling them in after an angel got out of a taxi that she hadn't paid for.  I went for an early lunch with the sound of gunfire still echoing over the brochure on Welsh holiday camps (the family didn't like the state of the chalet so we slept in a cupboard).

June and I were expecting a visitation so we tidied the miniature Action Man dungeon and constructed tea bags from mashed up ancient manuscripts - June was a coffee girl with a brown powder smeared on her lips and a juvenile hippopotamus hidden in her handbag.  A man arrived in a plastic bag with a resealable strip at the top; I pushed a papier mache pyramid down my front and started to talk in a strange dialect that even I didn't recognise.  After the warriors had left the camp I put the old fire out.

After accidentally swallowing my bobble hat in the mistaken belief it was a new type of muesli I retired to the bathroom where I rescued Tarzan's secret mistress from the clutches of a crisp packet spider - unknown to the rest of the cast the spider and me are the best of friends.  After my wire wool hair do preparations I made a hat out of Lego and walked the dog along the pelmet.  June came in later than expected with part of an ancient Manchurian army in a recyclable plastic bag.  I let the cat out.

I jumped out of the tea cup earlier than usual; the ferrets residing in each sleeve communicated telepathically as I travelled in a wooden box, holding an igloo on my lap which slowly melted into an anthropomorphic puddle on the still moving floor.  I exchanged maps with the grand old man and returned to my page with the bookmark already tied to my waist.  Having found a pneumatic drill in my pocket I went into the bathroom to practice my operating theatre procedures; the patient survived - just!

I pulled a multitude of worms out of a small pot as June left for work.  She had decided to use wheels instead of legs and rolled up the hill like water.  I saw sunrise in a tall hat while paddling in a tea cup.  I had to make good a crack in the sky so unzipped the house roof and flew up on my putty knife - I waved to the small people on their broom sticks and garden tool handles.  June came in later cradling an electricity pylon, we were careful not to create sparks as a flock of zeppelins floated overhead. 

I walked up the hill like Jack; June was feeling the cold and a couple of dog sharks were dancing in her pail of water - I told no one that I had a naked octopus in my clothes.  Poppy the dog had just employed a secretary and I took them both out for a walk beside the derelict lines where you get an empty rusty can for less than a smile on the Statue of Liberty's face. I came back and immediately painted a skirt on bare legs; the moment I finished this the table lamp stood up and walked out in a huff.

As I entered the dining room I heard a peel of bells, June had laid the table early with lampposts instead of forks and small combine harvesters in place of knives.  The bells were still ringing when I hung out of the window with a pair of paisley patterned curtains held in my teeth, unfortunately they fell when I opened my mouth to speak; the lady from next door waved.  As a war time air raid siren sounded I put a paint brush in front of my face and pretended it was a moustache - everyone laughed.

I spent much of the morning snapping twigs and laying them in horizontal rows on my head; by the time I had collected enough to become a Roman emperor I had cut sufficient wood to form a bridge to Valhalla.  June came back with a rainbow following her; there was no pot of gold so I shooed it away (a neighbour's cat had already dug up the hyacinths I was so late in planting).  I presided over activities in the amphitheatre by holding a comic book to my head - an effigy of Rupert Bear was cast on the bonfire.

The day started with several spotlights shining on the head of a nail; I picked up a hammer and pretended to knock it into a hand accidentally left on the table.  An Eighteenth Century mail coach had stopped in the bathroom to change horses (I was laying a new floor at the time) and a little later a man and woman, both made from newspaper, danced like seaweed being pushed aside by manatees.  The postman - who was a well known vampire - forced his letters through my door; they were mostly junk mail.

I woke with a clowns face, which strangely was different to the clowns face in the mirror - the mirror face spoke but I was determined to be silent.  June had disappeared leaving only a shadow so I walked round the black space, pulled a coloured handkerchief out of the drawer and mopped up a small puddle of water on the floor.  A clockwork mouse ambled out of the shadows, stopping before its mechanism did.  Sometime after this that I realised it was my birthday; Diana telephoned from a box.

I was up early as is customary on a Thursday morning; June had somehow got herself trapped in a gutter pipe which had crept inside during the night.  Her head protruded from one end and her feet from the other - I shook the dog's hand and went out.  When I arrived at the golden citadel the silver ghost was surrounded by legs; some were female but others may have been carved out of wood.  I had a neutron sandwich and slowly sank through the chair.  I returned from China before June returned from work.

I had to go to the dentist before breakfast; I took a set of mouths with me as a precautionary measure.  I rescued Noah from the whale while sitting in the waiting room (on the way home I wished I had rescued the whale from Noah) and then levitated to the first floor.  After having a plastic model of a Lockheed starfighter placed in my mouth I came home on full after burner; Poppy the dog was sat by the back door with a band of feathers tied round her head - I looked outside to see if I could see the wagon train.

June got the stilts out of the wardrobe, spun my talking bow tie like the propellor of the Great eastern and then left for work.  I climbed into a bombardier beetle suit and sat on a cloud; the short length of pipe with chrome tap which protruded from my abdomen let one small drip fall, hitting the local clergyman - who was running from a giant centipede - in the eye.  He looked up while I looked down.  I pulled two pairs of glasses out of my top pocket and flew to earth - June was sat in the washing machine.

I woke on a basking shark and decided to have a lie in.  June placed clean crockery in the tented village that had appeared on the dining table over night and I then descended on the back of an eagle.  I painted a variety of lines on the dining room wall, some of which we subsequently walked along. Eventually we ran out of the shop before the vampire film credits ended holding numerous bathroom fittings.  I mused on the fact that I saw everything in colour in a predominantly black and white world.

I got out of bed bewildered by my confectionery wrapping pyjamas - I went to the bathroom as milk chocolate and came out as dark.  After filling a small hole in the wall I climbed into the cockpit of a formula one racing car and made two and two into five - I then made five and five in a dozen, turned my school tie into Trajan's column and worked in a tunnel.  June came in after dinner with a number of OO/HO figures clambering about in her hair, I mentioned my plans and she brushed them out.

I had to feed Polyphemus and all of his sheep before I could have my own breakfast (of lightly fried petals of a rare orchid).  I then walked the dog - the jellyfish membrane I used as clothing flapping in the cold breeze.  When I returned to the the quarter deck the cardboard snake had eaten it fibreboard meal so I glued several pieces of wood together and made a weather vane; the wind wasn't blowing indoors so I climbed onto the back of a giraffe and pushed a purple wig through the chimney pot.

I found it difficult getting out of bed this morning, even though my ears had dramatically increased in size and had thrown themselves out of the window.  When I walked downstairs to bring them in again the face made of marks on an otherwise bare wall smiled, I saluted like an American general and jumped into a bucket.  Later Davy Crockett and I went in search of a field of young carrots which we interrogated before stuffing in our ears and racing down the road with skipping ropes tied round our necks.

It was railway tunnel black as I got out of bed at the earliest hour imaginable; I found a lion's tail issuing from my back but I couldn't find my mane anywhere and reasoned that I must have left it in someone else's house.  I raced down the cruise liner gangway thinking of female vampires, visited the old werewolf and came home with bite marks in my neck.  I noticed several Benedictine monks climb out of my neighbour's car and I patted their dog when it suddenly appeared out of my sleeve.

I clambered out of the house (which had been nicknamed "The Water Closet" by the door keeper of the Cumulous Cloud public house) through a winking porthole like eye - I wore a red and green bandana and signalled complementary colours to the stoat standing outside the elaborate wrought iron gate.  After delivering a top secret letter I slid into my invisible studio and held several ideas to ransom - no money was paid so I shot them.  June came in from the pouring rain carrying her coat.

I surprised June by walking into the room with my lunch tied up in a coloured handkerchief at the end of a stick; she transformed herself into a black cat and I went and got the fire wood in.  I placed several small trees in a pile on the mat in the middle of the lounge and put a larger one behind my ear; an apple fell out and landed on my foot - I thought up the idea of quantum mechanics.  A life size replica of Shirley Temple trundled to town followed by her loyal supporters; I painted the windows black.

While June got ready to go out I pretended to be a stand in for the Queen and knighted a number of people who inhabit the Gollum areas of my imagination.  We then went to dinner with a family of amphibians, sinking into a stagnant pond while we waited for our food to arrive.  I walked home wrapped up in a roll of embossed wallpaper (which was a trifle uncomfortable where the pattern sunk in) and the played a game of sea monsters with a little princess who had descended from the ornate chandelier.

June is working at the parachute factory all week; handing out the large pieces of cloth to old people just before they jump (I had already decided that if it was me I wouldn't jump but pull a retractable ladder from my back pocket and go up instead).  I spent the morning writing a letter to a group of European beavers I had previously met when all life forms on Earth were diaphanous and glowed in the dark.  During the afternoon I was the wax king and busied myself designing carrier bags before I melted in the heat.

I woke up alone thinking how fast the days go when you trapped inside the remains of someone's birthday cake.  After looking over Rainbow Bridge with a small dog in my arms I met up with myself in a different universe and then worked in an alternative studio - where paintings produce artists from areas of congealed paint.  The unicorn came through the front door speaking in code: several petals after the noon flower.  I picked up the fallen flower remnants and made a Hollywood film from them.

I was transported immediately after a breakfast of Scotch thistles and Norman masonry to a large interior with mirrors on every wall.  I felt cracks inside my head and went to town quickly to find some leaves.  I was home again well before June returned with her own cracks and mirrors (cradling an empty container). After dinner we both threw ourselves onto passing okapi and drew straight lines into some kind of distance.  The evening was spent in silence balancing eggs on outstretched fingers and toes.

Up early, I floated away on a table spoon to a small tropical isle which had been covered with many feet of snow.  I spoke with the ice giant as he poured a very hot cup of tea - he mentioned all the village gossip plus the sad news of the premature death of a young tree (he never knew it was me who had to cut it down), I mentioned my recent discoveries in nuclear physics.  I came home as a subatomic particle (not sure if I was the village antiparticle or just a normal particle travelling back in time).

I was alone in the goldfish bowl all of the morning; June returning from the Sahara mid afternoon.  It was after a long talk with the captain of some local army ants that I decided to remove the staircase emanating from a piece of unmarked carpet in my studio and ending at the point where the orange and green clouds converge in the upper atmosphere.  I did this before dinner, which I had in a field of high explosives; luckily nothing went off while I laid on a giant female anaconda digesting my meal.

June went out, carried away on frog spawn, while I found a small piece of African savannah to curl up on.  I finally got up after a large herd of wildebeest had ambled by - led by an old grandfather antelope who was smoking a pipe and considering ordering a new pair of slippers from an online catalogue.  I walked barefoot to the London of the Eighteenth century, returning by the mail coach of my imagination just before June came back with a bowl of fruit balanced on a pole at the end of her nose.

I had a lay in, even though June went out with a hat that reached from the tip of her head to the ground (in my mind she was called Trilby and I did a painting of her feet).  I cut dead branches in the rain forest with all the determination of a three toed sloth - not even moving when a couple of flying saucers landed on my head let out a number of three legged passengers and lifted off again.  I came in to talk to Moses so I never saw them go, apparently the budgie asked to be abducted but they refused.

June is still going out first thing in the morning - this time she was dressed as an Arabian cow girl.  I got out of bed as an Arabian cow and moseyed down to the kitchen followed by thousands of recently extinct animals.  I had to go out (with hula hoops as earrings) to find some caterpillars to milk, coming back on a land barge with a bag carrots and a pack of sugar filled cigarettes.  The cigarettes and I (after they had changed into something more comfortable) went out to seek a vegetable harem.

I went out early, rolling down the hillside like a milk bottle.  I was picked up by the Jolly Green Giant, taken back to his place of residence and given a duster. I came home, held by a strange floating organism reputedly from the atmosphere of Jupiter, and curled up in my studio while a large mollusc unfurled an ancient manuscript to find where the treasure was buried - all I could find out was where it wasn't.  Gary rung from inside a can of spaghetti just as I was rolling my tongue back inside a butterfly mouth.

I started the day drawing a map of Gibraltar on my thermal vest (June had been holding the hand of a barbary macaque all night); following the directions between nipples we found ourselves in a shopping centre in Basingstoke where June looked for maternity wear and I looked for tents.  A number of lesser ancient Greek gods mingled with the crowds as we tried to work out the exact origin of the contents of our burgers.  I bought two books while June bought three shoes - I'm not sure why.

I waved to June as she dressed as a Sabine woman and ran off with a Roman soldier like Europa running off with Zeus.  I spent a wasted morning listening to music on a telephone before eating the device and sitting in my studio waiting for my stomach to ring back.  After a quick lunch I went to town carrying a small bag; once there I pulled out a large black cylindrical object while the person next to me wrestled for the right to hold the Winchester rifle once fired by John Wayne in Stagecoach.

I got up, after deciding to wear a litter bin as a hat instead of the bucket we keep under the sink.  I shook the fins of several flying fish as I walked downstairs holding a plastic head which I called Salome.  After a brief spell efflorescing in the sunshine I climbed into the cockpit of a between the wars biplane and painted by fingernails with Mona Lisa smiles - my toe nails were already inscribed with key phrases from the sonnets of Michelangelo.  June returned from the forbidden planet just after a heavy shower.

I eased out of sleep like an athlete taking off his socks and pushed several warthogs away from the early morning watering hole (one of whom was wearing a hat he had taken from Jimi Hendrix).  I then did press ups on a desiccated Joshua tree while June put the floor plan of a Byzantine chapel on her face - we all said an animal prayer and then escaped though the open hatch in the World's first nuclear fusion submarine.  I spent a lot of the day on a small desert island making a new lawn out of crepe paper.

I said goodbye to the girl with a fish for a mouth, blue birds issuing from my handkerchief as I blew my nose.  I was wrapped up in my own thoughts so didn't notice all the passers by had feline heads.  I picked up my cat and went inside.  I had enough time to build a fortress between the bed and the leaning Tower of Pisa wardrobe (Paul had just given me several warships to wear and I tried them on for size - I used to be small enough for a corvette but now have to wear an aircraft carrier).

I had to race to town (dressed in red going down and blue coming back) very early in the morning before the other shepherds had arrived with their supersonic flock. On my return the sentries transmogrified into cooking utensils and I swam among the washing up.  After this I pulled the bell rope and hung about in my studio for most of the day.  June waved from the entrance of Notre Dame and we talked about the relative size of windows,; when an adequate consensus was reached I climbed though mine.

June called to me as she floated away on a paper hat made from a free newspaper which was pushed through a hole in the wall last night.  I lit a match and blew myself out, following her voice as far as the gate.  I pulled a number of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs out of the cats cradle I was playing with and read my real name.  I put this in a chest under the bed of Rumpelstiltskin in case I accidentally said it before going to sleep.  June and the frog prince came back mid afternoon while I was taking to a golden carp.

Up very early as normal, June holding the other end of the rake handle as I swept outside (accompanied by a number of emissaries from the old Russian Empire).  I followed a path of John Wayne's blood to the bungalow next to a football - while I was there several blackbirds and a retiring thrush attempted to kick it.  I returned after a long chat astride a vacuum cleaner and fluttered my wings all afternoon in my studio, attracting the attention of the lady across the way who had a crown of thorns above her door.

The man who calls himself Spartacus, and we call postman, brought us a box,  I opened it up but was disappointed by the size of the object inside.  Undeterred I placed it in one of Cerberus' three mouths - unfortunately he spat it out along with a collection of old Players cigarette cards and a very small gnome made from mozzarella cheese.  I called the gnome Terence, I'm not sure what he called himself. I showed him my gnome cricket club archive while June wrote her shopping list on my bright pink tutu.

After patting a very talkative cushion on the head June and I went out for the day.  We rode on antelopes with fob watches pinned to their uniforms and got off where the giant catapult was prepared to shoot the horse people into space.  We wandered around blobs of colour (where mauve and grey was predominant) and put my various hands into my all knowing pocket.  We said goodbye to the man with typewriter keys for teeth at about four and came home via grass snake burrows; arriving just after five.

It was a warm day, this was originally told to me by a giant pair of lips that emerged from the dining room wall (just below an ornamental plate showing two tiger cubs holding small statues of Rameses II - obviously they had been tourists).  I kept outside as much as possible, wearing an orange gerbera flowered top I had only just borrowed from my friend the pink flamingo - she had a penchant for wearing several pairs of spectacles at the same time but we had always got on well

June jumped off the stick the doctor had previously stuck inside Stegosaurus Sally's mouth to inspect her tonsils - these were healthy although it is rumoured he found a cash machine with three cherries in her airway.  I used this as the template for the day even arranging for three goddesses from Ancient Greece to line up ready to nonchalantly hand out an apple.  After June returned holding a chipmunk to her chest the man with a model of Concorde for a face gave a speech which no one listened to.

I hung from power lines talking to gibbons while June was getting ready to go out; the light house which reaches through the living room and bed room ceilings to shine in the roof automatically turned to fog alarm.  The tricycle that peddles up one sleeve and down the other was also set to remote.  We had to go out before the dog changed to a woolly rhinoceros with candy for a horn; I came back before June and sat in my UFO studio remembering things that will happen later.  June returned as a memory.

I had a spell as a string puppet this morning but didn't like it, after considering various ways of removing my strings I finally decided to sell them on E-Bay.  June had disappeared very early (hand in hand with a Sumarian foot soldier - who I later found out never actually existed) so I went back to bed with a rare form of Tibetan sheep.  I had been wearing dragonfly eye spectacles for some time which meant I could sign my name on tennis balls as they sped by but could never recognise a face.

I got up extremely early (Homo habilis had only started using tools) and managed to get on a passing sea slug to be transported to the bottom of the ocean.  I had tea with Neptune and we reminisced about next door's garden; I mentioned Janus and he reminded me about the little black girl coming up the path with her apron strings undone. Although I laughed we ended up close friends. I got home in time to take the fire dog to see her best friend Smoke - I then went in search of twenty four carrots to make a diamond.

June went to town with a model of an early Seventeenth Century village on her head in place of the replica of a soap opera set she normally wears as a hat; I contemplated singing on Coronation Street but decided against it.  I had already ran out wearing a werewolf costume to get dog food and wearing long ears to get something the rabbit could play on his new record player.  Later that day two people knocked on the door asking where they could find god; I pointed up the street while June pointed down.

June left the house even earlier than usual (wearing stilts so she could peer down the chimney - several regiments of foot soldiers of the George I era were bivouacked inside; I could hear them singing salacious songs while I was writing an ode to a lesser known vanir goddess. June came back earlier than expected too; I was still marching round the partially clean kitchen holding a chamber pot to my face with a view of Bognor Regis clearly visible.  We went out later to throw cinders in a sacred grove.

I spent most of the day outside of the goldfish bowl we normally inhabit.  I busied myself among the emerging shoots, happily creating chaos out of order - although I was accused of being truculent by a something or other princess riding a snail shell carriage (the bridge across the long and winding road separated and clapped its hands).  I managed to get things inside before the rain ran down the window, leaving only the bugler shot in lieu of the messenger and  a short note written in an unknown hand.

In a semi-awake state I stumbled down a dimly lit corridor, the strange singing louder the farther along I went.  June woke up abruptly and found she had set her alarm clock incorrectly - I tiptoed by a snoring werewolf holding a small man made from coloured paper clips (I heard her bath water exiting the stage pursued by a bear.  She went to work just as the rabbit pulled a magician out of a hat.  In my childhood dreams I could escape from vampires by taking flight.

I woke thinking of genetically modified trees which have televisions instead of leaves.  June and I then went out to shop, her with a host of golden daffodils and me like the Ancient Mariner.  We walked on the same piece of ground for so long it became sacred but she eventually found something others could wear - it would have taken even longer to find something suitable for herself.  While I waited I took a short excursion to Neptune, taking in a number of botanical gardens and a museum of ancient relics.

Back to building a house from used toothbrushes today.  Hiding a collection of tools in my bag I dressed myself as Pierrot with a road map painted on the white costume.  A message was sent to the all knowing spider concerning the whereabouts of the country portrayed but all that came back was a postcard from Atlantis before the deluge.  I built a waterfall in my top pocked and threw myself down it inside a barrel.  June was out all morning plugged into a pinball machine at an old peoples home.